


detriment for tooth enamel

by wordquaff



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Routine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:00:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9360554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordquaff/pseuds/wordquaff
Summary: This is half about a fake relationship, but mostly about an anxious boy named Hank and his overbearing friends and really good guidance counselorIt was quiet for a few minutes as they exchanged looks and Hank drew tight circles with his fingertips into the pads of his digits, before Ms. Pryde finally spoke, “I’m sorry, is this some youth culture thing I’m not keeping up with? Pressuring friends into sex with Dawson Creek actors?”(revised and edited: 5/5/2017)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a draft in my docs for about five months, and I found it yesterday and wrote three chapters in one sitting, and I haven't beta'd it, but I dunno! I was pretty happy with how it turned out, so I figured to share it!  
> I use different character descriptions for some people than the movies use, so don't get thrown off when those pop up  
> Slightly inspired by the best mcsummers fic ever: If You Liked the Book You'll Hate the Movie by paperclipbitch. Not in plot or any other sort of fashion, but it just sort of reminds me of that style. lol
> 
> EDIT: So I went through and made this better recently and figured I post the revision! Im sure there are still spelling errors but the writing and end are both better! I might be messing with the formatting for a bit, so sorry about that!

     Hank was a good person. Or, at least, he’d like to think he was; he volunteered on weekends; he doesn’t even jay walk. Obviously, the World had another idea because he must have done something _awful_ to deserve having Raven as his best friend. Maybe he, in a past life, killed someone or kicked puppies or double parked, or something just _damning_ because he was certain he was cursed.

      (That was harsh. She wasn’t always the vain of his existence. Just frequently.)

 

\--

     She had somehow acquired a key to his house, but at a certain point, he had stopped locking the front door. He knew she was just going to come in either way, and his parents never came home in early enough to notice. But she usually reserved her visiting hours to after school, mostly because she didn’t get up until 7:15.

     (Class began at 7:30.)

     That what was the most surprising aspect of him woke up with her bright blue hair tickling his nose. He forced open his eyes; Raven’s dark eyes lined even darker with black eye liner evaluating him evenly. He blinked at her, trying to figure out if this was a cruel nightmare or real life.

      “You snore,” she said, her voice scientific and deep as usual.

      “Raven, it’s six’ o’clock,” he responded.

     She shrugged, moving to perch herself on his desk, boot clad feet resting haphazardly on his rolling chair, “Well. You’re driving me today. Charles has an interview,”

      “Will I be driving you home?”

      “Yeah. Charles is _having late lunch_ with _Erik._ ” her voice was too sour to argue with.

     He sighed, but rolled out of bed dutifully. The cool hardwood stung the bottoms of his feet, but he slid himself to his bathroom with as little effort as possible. He didn’t bother closing the door, since Raven would just yell through it.

     “You had better shower- your hair looks like a swamp fan,” she called.

     He responded with the sound of the shower turning on.

     “I’m picking out your outfit, also.”

     “No, you’re not.” As he prepped his toothbrush, he could hear her rattle through his closet, “ _Raven,_ ”

     “It wouldn’t _kill_ you to dress yourself a little nicer, Hank. Show off your assets, for Christ’s sake. Lord knows anyone would kill for those legs. And that track butt!”

     He couldn’t respond through the toothpaste foam, so he pushed her out of his head and lost himself in his routine.

\--

     They got to school early (because Hank always got to school early, because that’s what he’s always done.) They sat in one sided silence as Raven filled him in on school gossip and he worked on homework with the occasional encouragement (because he didn’t care, but he liked hearing Raven talk.) The first of their friends to show up was Darwin (because he had always shown up second) and he passed out the breakfast sandwiches he picked up for them (because he always got them breakfast) and they wordlessly handed him money. Angel and Alex came next, (because they always drive together) and they brought coffee (because they always brought coffee) and Sean didn’t come to school until fifteen minutes after the first bell (because he never did, because he was hot boxing his 1986 DeLorean in the staff parking lot.)

     Routine made Hank comfortable.

     Alex sat next to Hank, as usual and slid him his coffee cup, nodding. Hank smiled and gently accepted it. He glanced to see _Esther Lederberg_ scribbled in black on the side and beamed at Alex, who grinned down at his own drink.

    (It was a bit between the two of them. Early in their friendship, Hank freaked out when he discovered Alex was also a science nerd. Alex started giving fake names at restaurants of forgotten scientists to make Hank laugh. Then Hank would say what they were known for. It was _their_ bit.)

    “Microbiology; excluded from the Nobel prize.”

     Alex’s grin got a little smug, bumping shoulders with Hank, “Good morning to you, too,”

     Hank blushed and hid his smile in his latte.

 --

     (Honestly, Alex had been a big old douche bag to Hank for the first year they knew each other. Not that Hank was a stranger to people being dicks to him, but there was something about Alex’s absolute apathy that held a special sting. Then, they were forced to be lab partners. Alex wasn’t the dead weight Hank had expected, and he eased up on being an ass a bit till they were evenly footed. Then Alex started actively being nice to him, so Hank gave him a chance, and put him to the test with their friend group. He fit right in; he was stoic, but brotherly and loving. He was loyal and a little bit of a thick idiot, but they loved him as soon as he lamented a long-winded apology. Hank got to know him and he began to talk to Hank about his parents, and his brother, and his past, and his problems, and like the goddamn idiot he is, Hank fell a little bit in love.)

 

 --

     The six of them didn’t get a moment all together until lunch. Being upperclassmen, they were given free range of the school, so they chose to sit in the courtyard, like they always did. It was private, but a few more friend groups scattered around which meant it wasn’t dead silent. They were on alright terms with everyone else there, too, so Sean could light up with no one snitching.

      (“Snitches get stitches,” Raven would solemnly say and it became law.)

     Hank got there after his advanced calculus class, finding only three of his friends waiting for him at the round table. It wasn’t unusual for Raven to dawdle about or Sean ducking out to grab a smoke on the bike trail, so he barley paid any mind to it. Angel, Darwin, and Alex all came from gym so he was hardly lonely.

     (They were objectively the chilliest. Darwin was mature to an absolute tee; most of Angel’s charm came from the fact she was quiet until she cut with a searing remark; and Alex was a stoic sort of, stereotypical bad boy. Without the wildcards, it was almost possible to have a real conversation.)

     Sean burst through the doors with the same sort of Margaretville style he did everything with and flopped on the bench between Angel and Darwin, resting his arms across their shoulders,

      “My _dudes_! My _busters_! I need an open court!”

    Angel pushed him off her, “I swear to god, if this is about your mixtape-”

    “It’s not about my _mixtape_ , Angel, I’m talking about my _auditory manifesto-”_              

     They all groaned in unison.

     He raised his hands defensively, “It needs workshopping!”

      “It needs to be put into a fire and never spoken of again,” Alex said, which was extremely fair.

     Sean had been working on a mixtape of early 2000’s pop vocalists and ex- _Bachelor_ franchise contestants’ music careers combined into a trap-jazz combo rhythm for about four years now, and none of them had heard it all, but frankly, nobody wanted to? Sean _was_ musically talented, but he only used it for evil.

      “Besides, none of us even have a stereo, dude,” Darwin reasoned, ever the kindest of them all.

      “Oh, is that the problem? That’s fine, I have it memorized-” Sean took a giant breath, ready to jump into it.

      Like a merciful break in the horror show that was bout to occur, the courtyard doors opened again. Raven stomped her way towards them, footsteps heavy and present, as heads snapping to her nearly involuntarily.

      (She had that sort of commanding presence. Like a celebrity, or a trash can fire.)          

      Angel was the first to greet her, “Thank _god_ , Raven, talk about anything else,”

     She smoothly placed herself between Alex and Hank, because she was a jerk. Her face looked devilish which was never a good sign, “Well. I just found Hank the man who will pop his cherry.”

     Before he could groan his own protest, Alex choked on his burger, “ _What_?”

     Darwin handed him a napkin, looking tired, “Close your mouth when you talk,”

     Raven barreled on, “I have found our dearest, most pure, virtuous friend, Henry Phillip McCoy his first lover, because I myself am kind and giving,”

     (His second semester, sophomore year was when it began. Darwin had just lost his virginity, and Raven realized that everyone bar Hank had popped their cherries. She suddenly decided that she was going to make it her personal mission to set him up with a _hunk of fine man_. Hank hadn’t mentioned it, but it was also the Charles met Erik’s mom and she had been in a mood,)

     “Oh. Good for you!” Sean said happily.

     “I’m sorry, do I not get _any_ say in this?” Hank cried and Raven shrugged.

     “Well, you used to, but then you spent four years of high school twiddling your god damn thumbs instead of actually trying to find a man!”

     “Because I didn’t want to!”

     Raven physically put her hand over his mouth, “Shut up, Hank, you are wasting your beauty,”

     “Wait, are we still on the Hank Virginity Conversation? I thought we were over that and we’re on Sean’s Desolate Future now.”

     “Don’t be naive, Angel. While other may come, and go, our Hank’s Virginity discussion will never die away.  Until his hymen does.”

     Angel looked more confused, “Do penises have hymens?”

     Darwin was the only one who see to be gauging Hank’s reactions, quickly trying to soothe his embarrassment, “Hey, now, don’t get too flustered! Maybe you’ll like the dude Raven picked.”

      “I doubt it,” Hank said sourly.

      “You don’t know!”

      “Who is it?”

     She drew her shoulders back with pride, “It’s Brian Falsworth,”

     Alex looked horrified, “That British guy that slept with Johnny Storm last homecoming?”

    “Yes!” at Hank’s blank stare, she began to defend herself, “Hank, come on, he’s hot! At the very least, he’s the closest to Dawson I could get.”

    “Dawson?” Sean asked.

      “The title character from _Dawson’s Creek_ , Sean, keep up. Also! I just want to say! Johnny Storm is a tough cookie to crack and he was _very_ satisfied, so Brain obviously is good in bed! I’m just saying he could very well be a great candidate for a virginity taker?!”

     Everyone looked at Hank expectantly.

      “Guys- come on- _no_ -!”

     The group erupted into polarizing reactions: Angel still asking about penis hymens, Raven already yelling at him, Alex clapping in whole support, Darwin looking nonplussed, and Sean blurrily citing there was a perfect song for this mood on his mixtape.

\--

     The rest of lunch went smoothly enough, talking about the Raven’s over involvement in their love lives, and the British Invasion, and could it possibly be the next generation of Brit Invasion. Well, Raven mainly talked and they got words in edgewise.  Then a full thirty minutes of them trying to deter Sean from reciting his entire mixtape from memory.

     (It did not work,)

    Despite the group moving on, Hank found it a little difficult to ignore the flush that had settled in his cheeks. He just felt _heavy-_ Alex seemed to be the only one who had noticed, sending him worried looks and putting his hand on Hank’s forehead a few times. He pushed him off, assuring Alex he was fine, but he _did_ leave for class first. This wasn’t unusual- Hank liked to be the first person in the room. He liked the silence.

      He barely had two feet in the door of his health class when Coach Romanoff handed him a bright yellow note that he instantly knew was from guidance. It had been folded just once and the handwriting was loopy and familiar, and with the usual sort of informality reserved for him.

     _Hank- when you’re free, come visit me!! Or don’t, I’m not your mom. -Ms. Pryde_

     He raised his eyebrow, but quickly turned on his heel to make his way to the guidance office, because anything was better than school forced health classes.

 --

      (Freshmen at Massachusetts County High School had to meet with their guidance counselor the first week to make sure they were making a _healthy transition_. Back then, Hank hadn't enthusiastic about the prospect. He’d never been one to talk about himself and he _despised_ being forced to talk about feelings. In his experience, guidance counselors didn’t _help_ anything. They sat there glassy eyed, nodding along as he stumbled through a problem silently. Then, they’d hand him a pamphlet and send him on his way with an empty encouragement. He figured the best option that time was to be silent and let _this_ counselor cut him off. Pull an Angel, they liked to say

     He was expecting an older man with a beard and a guitar, trying too hard and being too insincere. He wasn’t expecting Katherine A. Pryde; former world elite mathematician with four degrees (in advanced computer engineering, analytical calculus, algebraic geometry, and adolescent psychology) _and_ a Fields Medal under her belt. He wasn’t expecting a doctoral degree in math to be hung on the wall, but for her to insist against the title. He wasn’t expecting Katherine A. Pryde; a beautiful the twenty-six year old with kind brown eyes and warm brown skin, and a long, bulbous tip nose, and dark kinky hair that stuck up and out at all angles who refused to take off her star of David. He wasn’t expecting Katherine A. Pryde; an adult human who actually wanted to help.

     He could still remember walking into her office, ready to sit in utter silence, but being met with a framed picture of Ada Lovelace, a hand painted sign saying _Crying is Better Than Drugs_ , and an absolutely exhausted looking woman sat on a chair, in a men’s Hawaiian shirt tucked into rolled up khakis.

    She obviously saw him inspect her outfit and spoke like she as following a script; like she had been answering the unasked question all day, “I really thought I did laundry, but I didn’t, so this is my roommates, but _I promise you_ , my personal grooming habits _do not_ reflect equally onto my abilities to guide teenagers’ professional and personal careers,” 

     He felt a surge of more respect for her than he had ever had for another teacher, and he could stop himself from saying, “I’ve been wearing the same shirt for five days and nobody’s noticed. Including me. Until an hour ago,”

     She looked taken off guard that someone actually responded, before she burst into bright laughter.

     They were instant friends.)

\--

     Ms. Pryde was sat at her desk when he got there, scribbling away furiously at a thick file as usual. He couldn’t tell if she was doing something of real importance or building the illusion she had things to do- a tactic she did a lot.

     She looked up and smiled pushing her file into an open drawer. She was just building the illusion. “Ah! Hank! Good! I wanted to talk to you.”

     He sat down, antsy, “Is something wrong?”

      “Well, wrong is simultaneously the perfect and worse word to use for this conversation,”

      “Did I do something?”

      “You never do anything,”

      “Because I don't need to talk about anything- I haven't cried all week,”

      “Well, that's just not healthy. Crying is the best release. I do it all the time.” she leaned forward, face extremely serious, “Hank, it’s better than drugs,”

     He let out a small smile.  

      “But, there is an uncomfortable topic to breech here,”

     He frowned.

      “Well, you _see_ , I talked with your friend Raven today-”

      “Oh, _Christ_.”

      “You don’t even know what we talked about!”

      “Any conceivable subject in unbelievably dangerous if it is preceded with Raven,”

      “That’s fair; we did talk about your virginity,”

      “ _What_!?”

       (He was a good person, dammit, why did these things happen to him?)

       (Dammit!)

     “She told me she wanted to adjust her schedule and then came in, locked my door and immediately started talking about your ‘wasted youth’. She _Usual Suspects_ ’d me! I was almost impressed,”

   Without a shred of irony, Hank was begging the universe to swallow him whole. He was very open with Ms. Pryde. But this. Was a little much. Even for him. “Ms. Pryde, I am so _, so_ sorry-”

     "I have to ask this as an authority figure; is Raven pressuring you into sex?”

      “No! Well…” Ms. Pryde looked at him with eyes that basically screamed ‘ _well’, bitch?_ He winced, “yes? Technically. Not with her though-! with James Van Der Beek!”

     "James Van Der Beek?”

      “Well, not _him_. He's like a model of who she wants me to… have… sexual intercourse with,”

    Ms. Pryde paused, squinting at him, “Right.”

      “Yeah.”

     It was quiet for a few minutes as they exchanged looks. Hank drew tight circles with his fingertips into the pads of his digits, before Ms. Pryde finally spoke, “I’m sorry, is this some _youth culture_ thing I’m not keeping up with? Pressuring friends into sex with _Dawson Creek_ actors?”

      “ _No,_ ” he sighed, “It’s a _Raven_ thing. She’s is on this weird crusade where she thinks it’s criminal I’m going to be graduating a virgin.”

      “Okay. Well. As an adult, I must advise that is _not a negative_ thing,”

     He tried to convey that he agreed with a wide, flustered gesture.

       “Do you have any idea as to why is she so invested in this?”

     Hank shrugged violently. He had now chosen a spot on the ceiling to unload his empty stare on.

      “ _Henry_.” she prompted. There where times she wanted him to talk out his problems--they were few and far between, but they were there-- and she’d make him talk aimlessly until he stumbled blindly onto a conclusion.

     He exhaled, “She’s worried?”

      “About?”

      “I think she thinks I’m… I don’t know… missing out? On high school experiences? And physical pleasure, I’m guessing.”

     “Don’t say physical pleasure, I’m thirty and it feels weird,”

     “I’m trying to channel Raven, who _would_ make it weird,”

    Ms. Pryde sat back, nodding. Thankfully, she doesn’t make him go on- she was a good judge of his comfort zones. “I think that’s a fair conclusion. Her inverse-slut-shaming is a little offbeat, but I think she’s coming from a caring place.”

    He couldn’t help but grumble, “But she apparently can’t care enough to listen to what I want,”

    “You don’t want to have sex?”

    “Not… meaninglessly. Not there’s anything wrong with people that do and maybe, _one day,_ maybe I will, you know, be that person, I uh- it’s--just…” he squinted at the ceiling tile ( _it was covered in a coffee stain. How did those even get on ceiling tiles?)_ continuing weakly, “It’s my first time.”

    It was silent for a moment, clocks ticking in background. (it felt like it had been getting faster, and now almost seemed still as his blood pounded softer on his ear drums) A good portion of their interaction happened in the silent moments. They could convey words better without speaking better than others could with poetry.

   _(I don’t want to dive into that. I’m not_ ready _dive into this.)_

    (She can tell. She understood. She let it leave the air.)

     Ms. Pryde clapped softly, “Well. I just wanted to tell you, in case you would have been blindsided when she brings it up to you.”

     He snorted, which he hoped she could tell meant _too late._

    "Okay then, I’m telling you in order to reiterate my plea to her to _not_ include _me_ in conversations about minor’s virginity. It is weird. And sorta illegal. Maybe.”

     He nodded towards the stained ceiling.

     “And as an apology both on my behalf, and hopefully Raven’s, for this awful, uncomfortable, plane crash of a conversation; I will write you out of gym,”

     “ _Thank you_.”

 --

     He was ignoring Raven when they were in Psych, because he was angry (and he didn’t want to say anything he’d regret.) The petty reason was he knew nothing annoyed Raven worse. It was tough to get back at Raven, since she could spin any sort of attention to benefit her- the best way to annoy her was to ignore her.

    She didn’t notice for the first couple of minutes of class, but once she whispered a joke and he didn’t send his usual raised eyebrows back, she began to fidget. Another ten minutes brought her to a visible state of frustration. That’s when he saw a note be pushed onto his desk.

    He didn’t hesitate in grabbing it and crushing it instantly. He heard her let out a deep huffy breath and push another into his view.

    He repeated his action.

    She then shoved her entire notebook on top of his.

     _What’s up your ass_

     With dead eyes, he scribbled back. _Your handwriting is abysmal_

 She replied by circling her original question and when he pushed towards her ultimately, page mostly blank still, she only looked angrier.

     He finally met her eyes and watched as they changed with his glare. They began furious, shifting to confused-realization-understanding-guilt-and then defensive anger. She whispered cruelly, _are you serious? The virginity thing?_

     (This wouldn’t be the first fight between them about the virginity conversation. It didn’t bother repeating, it always ended the same. She was too intense and he shut down too quick. It would be quiet for a few weeks where she would feel guilt. Then she’d get over it and start the fight up again.)

     She snatched her notebook back all the way and sat back in her seat, fuming.

 --

     The final bell felt like it took days to ring. The day from hell was not going to end easy for Hank, apparently. Once it _did_ finally ring, he booked it to the parking lot- or at least, booked it in his definition which was speed walking with his head straight down.

     He barely made it to his car when Angel popped up out of nowhere, tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped a little too high and she rolled her eyes.

     Angel always talked in double speak- what she was saying, and what she actually meant.

     What she said was, “I’m driving Raven home, so you’re taking Alex home.”

     What she meant was, “You and Raven are both being ridiculous but I’m not going to waste my breath on it.”

      (He didn’t blame her.)

     Hank nodded, a little uncomfortably. Angel had a piercing stare, “Okay. Thanks for telling me.”

     “Drive safe,” she deadpanned. (“I will not weep at your funeral,”)

     She walked away with her usual harsh swaying rhythm. He sat silently in his car, waiting for Alex. He closed his eyes. He counted his breathing. He traced circles on his steering wheel.

     (He liked routine.)

     A knock on his window shocked him- his knee jerk reaction embarrassing and loud. It should be a law that people have to wear bells around Hank because he was not in the mood for this scaring bullshit. He looked to see Brian Falsworth standing with an amused look on his charming face. Hank waved, hoping to appease him enough to avoid conversation. It didn’t work- Brain’s gaze was still expectant, and with a sigh and a prayer, he moved to get out of his car.

     “Hey, Brain,” he tried to hide his tone of pure dread.

     Brain shot him a dazzling smile, “Hey you,” he purred, accent smooth like sterile glass. Brian _was_ rather handsome, with brown eyes and a strong jaw- tall and lean like an actor playing a track star in a lifetime movie.

     (He wasn’t Hank’s type. Hank liked stocky, blondes.)

     He nodded back, shifting uncomfortably. Brian shifted closer, leaning with one arm against his driver’s door. Hank flattened himself as far back against his Honda as he could.

     “So. Henry-”

     “-I, uh, I go by Hank-”

     “ _Henry._  How are you doing today?”

     He stumbled through some sort of answer.

     “Because, you know Henry, a little birdie-” it took every bone in his body not to legitimately vomit with that _awful_ Raven pun- “told me that _you_ were looking for a _beau?_ ”

      “Did she?” his voice was more of a squeak, he wasn’t proud of that.

      Brain hummed in response, dragging two fingers down Hank’s arm. Hank looked over his shoulder; everyone in the parking lot were sparing glances at the pair of them, but there was nobody he knew well enough to send signals of _assist me_ to.

     “Well, um- you see, I think we may have- uh- gotten our wires crossed because- I’m- I’m not really looking for a _beau_ right now?”

      “She said you might be nervous,” he chuckled, “she told me about your circumstance. But, I assure you, Henry, I have handled my fair share of virgins. I’ll treat you right,”

      Hank pushed away his moving hand with a nervous smile, “No, I- uh- no doubt that you would, but I _promise_ you, we are _not_ on the same page here- I’m not even a virgin and I’m surely _not_ looking for a boyfriend- um-”

     (Hank was good at lying, but he was worse at dealing with flirting.)

     Like a shining beacon of hope over Brian’s shoulder, he saw Alex walking with a running man’s peace towards them, look of complete understanding painted across his features. He was within earshot. Hank made an executive decision.

    "I already _have_ one!”

    “Oh?” he didn’t sound like he believed Hank one bit.

    “Yes, but, uh, I haven’t told Raven yet? Because, um it’s our _really_ good friend and we didn’t want to shove an _ax_ into our friendship-” by this time, Alex was rounding next to him and Hank grabbed his shoulders, pulling him close, “-I’m already dating Alex!”

     Alex’s face only showed his surprise for a fraction of a second, before he relaxed against Hank with practiced ease. His hand went protectively to Hank’s waist and his mouth found its way into a scowl.

     “You lookin’ for something, Falsworth?” he growled with just enough edge.

     (Hank had nearly forgotten Alex could be intimidating. That happens when you’ve seen someone stop a moving vehicle to move a turtle out of road.)

     He could hear the people around them mutter some reactions, but his heart was pounding too hard to focus. He could almost see Sean’s head poke out of his window, looking absolutely ecstatic.

     Brain still didn’t look like he believed them, but at least he had taken a step back and removed his arm. (Significant improvement already) “Certainly not looking for trouble, Alex. I am just wondering why I’m here if you two are ‘dating’,”

    “ _Well_ , we’re together! Sleeping together! Are we dating?” Hank rushed.

    Alex pulled a perfect pout, “Aw, babe, don’t do me like that,” his voice dropped, mouth skating onto Hank’s throat, “let me call you my boy,”

     (Alex was much better at this, but he was also dangerously close to Hank’s racehorse pulse.)

      “Alex…” he hoped that his voice sounded cute and embarrassed and not panicked as he felt.

      “Sorry, bozo, I just love making you squirm,” he turned his eyes cold and sent them towards Brian, “You don’t need to know _nothing_ but that _I’m_ telling you to back _the fuck off_ , Falsworth.”

      Brian put his hands up in surrender, stepping backwards away from them, face still smug. His smirk annoyed Hank to a _crazy_ level, which is probably why he ducked down and planted a quiet, sweet kiss on Alex’s lips.

     (It was barely a peck. But he could _swear_ , he thought he heard Alex sharply inhale.)

      His smirk slipped, but Brian looked actually sort of happy for them. He wasn’t a bad guy, but something about Alex’s death glare seemed like he was soon to be a sworn enemy of their friend group.

      Alex dragged his hand off Hank’s waist like he was hating every second they were losing contact, walking himself to shotgun as Hank fumbled back behind the wheel. Once the doors were safely closed, silence felt like a knife.

     (Raven did that. She put him in that position, she _knew_ he doesn’t know how to respond to romantic tension. Everyone knew that- Darwin had a reputation as a match maker and never once tried it with Hank. Angel casually flirted, but always knew when to stop. Sean never invited him to one of his orgies. Alex got physically angry when people hit on Hank. They all knew.)

      “Thank you,” Hank croaked.

      “Never thank me for doing that,” Alex grunted, “that guy is an asshole.”           

     Hank shrugged. He felt like his prediction was correct.

      Alex got quiet for a moment before putting his hand on Hank’s leg, peering deep into his eyes, “ _Raven’s_ an asshole. I love her. But she’s an asshole.”

       Hank smiled a second. That was enough.

 --

     They didn't talk for a while. That was one of the reasons he liked Alex so much; he didn't talk unless he had something to say. Hank felt he didn't either, but half the time, Hank probably didn't speak _when_ he had something to say. Alex always gave him an ear when Hank was ready. And if he never spoke up, Alex would bring it up for him.

     They had sat, radio playing quietly and faces flat until Alex’s voice cut through it all. (Hank had been too quiet for too long.)

     “So, this whole virginity thing has really gotten out of hand.”

     Hank responded with a begrudging noise.

     “What are you gonna say to Raven?”

     He passed a faded road sign. He felt connected with it, “I don't know. Every time we fight about this she's sorry for a week and then she gets back on it. The only foreseeable answer is to have sex, which I am _not_ going to do.”

     Neither of them talked for a few moments. Alex broke it again, stiltedly, “Well. You could lie.”

     He snorted, “What could I say? I have a boyfriend in Canada nobody knows and therefore, can't disprove?”

     “No. I mean. We sort of laid some groundwork.”

     Hank left the silence a little questioning, posing the request for explanation with his squint.

     “You could say _we_ slept together.”

     His heart stuttered, “Alex, we can't lie to our friends.”

     “We kinda _can_. It's not hurting anyone, really. If anything, I think everyone will be happy if we don't have to talk about your sex life ever again.”

     He paused. That was fair- everyone bar Raven had lost interest in his virginity _years_ ago. It might help. (But he couldn't pretend to date Alex. It was too close in exchange for too many steps back.)

      “They wouldn't believe it.”

     “They wouldn't be surprised,” Alex leveled.

     The stuttering stilled, only for his hear to jump into his throat-( _did he know that Hank-?)_ “Why wouldn't they be surprised?”

     Alex’s voice was stilting again, “They-they just _wouldn't.”_ there was an unspoken _drop it_ /

     “I couldn't ask you to do that-”

     “I'm not exactly getting any either, Hank, and I'm not exactly _looking_ to get any. I gotta worry about getting into college, not finding different ways of turning down the student population,” there wasn’t a day that passed that Alex wasn’t hit on. He was hot, and Hank tried to ignore it, “Plus, Scott would probably be thrilled. He loves you,”

     Hank traced the faint outlines of circles his fingernails have left in the leather of steering wheel.

     “Look- I'm not going to force you to do it, but I'm just saying. Brian probably told Raven by now, and it could be an easy out- we'd just have to keep it up for a few months and then we can ‘realize we're better as friends’,”

     (Because they were. Because Alex didn't feel like Hank did.)

     With that emphasis, they were pulling up to the Summers Home like a giant, looming conversation deadline. Angel’s truck sat against the curb- a dreadful foreshadowing for Raven and Angel themselves sitting on his front steps. Angel looked completely over it, knees knocking together like she was ready to leave already. Raven’s muscles were tense, like she was ready to pounce, her face somewhere between pissed and sensationalism.

     It was now or never.

    Hank pulled his car into the driveway, killing the engine. He stared at the ceiling for a long second, exhaling. “Fuck it.”


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as his feet hit the pavement, Alex was by his side, grabbing his hand. He appreciated it; even if it _was_ just for looks, it grounded him, kept his fidgeting low.

    Raven liked making people work for confrontation (a trait she would never admit came from Charles, but it did. The sense of drama in that family was overwhelming.) She waited for them to stop directly in front of her like they were up for judging. She pushed her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose (it was September. It was cloudy. She didn’t need sunglasses. That was _also_ classic Charles move) and leveled them with a glare.

    When she finally spoke, her voice was controlled and polite (Charles _again_ ) “So. I hear congratulations are in order,”

    Hank winced, “Raven, I’m so _sorry,_ we didn’t want you to find out like this-”

    Her eyebrows went up almost comically, “Wait, _wait, wait_ , no, don’t tell me you’re actually expecting me to believe you two have been banging _without any of us_ noticing!”

    They both looked sheepish in the tense air. Like a crack of lightning, Raven started laughing, and she didn’t stop for a solid three minutes.

    “We’re not lying,” Alex was defensive, his jaw clenched. Hank squeezed his hand and it relaxed a tiny tad.

    “We didn’t know how to gauge it with you- we didn’t think you’d believe it-”

    She stopped suddenly, the air leaving her lungs, “Are you two actually doing this right now?”

    “Yeah. We are.”

    Ever the voice of clarity, Angel’s emotionless voice popped up, “I’m sorry. What is happening?”

    Hank flushed and brought himself closer to Alex. His body felt stiff even to himself, but he pushed past it. (He was _good_ at lying), “Alex and I have been… seeing each other, privately for a while now. We didn’t tell you guys because we were worried about making everything awkward-”

    “Shut up.” Raven said flatly, “Are you two legit being sincere?”

    They both nodded. (he felt a little bad about doing it so effortlessly.)

    (Hank was a good liar.)

    “Who made the first move?” she asked.

    “I did,” Alex said.

    “Who knows?”

    “Nobody. Well. Brian now.” Hank said.

    “When did you get together?”

    They paused for the first time, before replying in inappropriate unison, “Darwin’s birthday,”

    Hank flushed at that. He knew why he said that, which means Alex _must_ remember- he thought he didn’t, they’d never talked about it-

    Angel’s voice cut through his thoughts, “That was July- that was _four months ago._ ”

“Yeah,” Alex said.

    “You’ve kept this from us for _four months_?”

     Raven was looking at them with a calculating gaze, “You guys aren’t lying,” she said matter of factly.

    “No. We aren’t.” he was sure Alex could feel his fingers spasm into tracing ovals.

    As still as a lake, the four of them stared each other down. It was like a John Wayne movie; Raven’s eyes narrowed in evaluation, Angel squinting as she worked it out. Alex was wide stanced, ready to attack, Hank was surely knock kneed and sweating. The moment broke like a tumbleweed across screen, Raven’s signature flare must have been kept too quiet and needed to break out. The girls broke- Raven raised her hands and head to the sky dramatically.

    “Finally.” she called, “ _Finally!_ ”

    Angel laughed, “We thought you two would never figure it. You’ve been pining for _years-”_

     “Okay, we haven’t been _pining_ ,” Alex said, surely to protect his masculinity.

    “Shut up, yes you have,” Angel replied. (“Don’t you pull that with me,”)

     She and Raven stood up, Angel stalling at the steps as Raven made a beeline to Hank, pulling him into a tight embrace. No matter where they stood as friends, her hugs felt like home. Hank brought her in, her blue head tucking itself comfortably under his chin.

    “I’m so _happy_ for you guys- I mean, he’s no James Van Der Beek, but I’m _happy,_ ” she said and she sounded sincere. (Hank felt a little worse. But she put him in this situation), “Fucking _finally_!”

    They left with a final shoulder pat from Angel to Alex- almost as formal as a baseball coach to a star player- Raven chattering to them the whole way about plans for that week. Her voice faded as she got into Angel’s truck and they disappeared down the street, leaving the boys in their silence. They had broken apart, standing like two toys left on the floor.

    Hank breathed in and out, the phantom feeling of his fingers making circles soothing on his palm.

    Alex grabbed his shoulder. The utter _bro_ nature of it felt like a slap after the sweetness of earlier, “See? Wasn’t that hard.”

     Hank leveled him with a gaze.

    Alex’s lips were tense, like there was something more he wanted to say, but he was stopping himself. Whatever it was going to be was cut off by the creak of the Summer’s door opening. They turned to find Scott standing confused and a little expectant in the doorway, “Okay, I have heard voices out here for like five minutes- are any of you actually going to come in?”

\--

    Inside, supplied with Scott’s usual sort of hospitality which equated to a gallon of ice tea, they discussed their “relationship” a little more. They were going to confirm its reality when anyone asked, but never bring it up. They’d “break up” before prom.

     They’d remain just as good as friends.

    (They didn’t talk about Darwin’s birthday)

    As Alex predicted, Scott was _ecstatic_ about their relationship. When they told him, he screamed a little before stopping himself, then immediately decided his first instinct was right and screamed a little more. He pulled Hank into a hug, bouncing up and down, thanking him over and over. Alex looked embarrassed.

    Hank went home to an empty house. He slumped against the front door, staring at his stairs’ railing, unloading his thoughts towards it. He stayed there for at least an hour.

\--

    (Darwin’s had been a great party: of course it had, Sean had thrown it and he knew how to throw a party. People drank, smoked, danced, and hooked up-- just as Sean wanted. He said he was Proud. Alex told him he wasn't going to drink- something about helping Scott move offices then next day- and Hank never did, so they stuck together all night, sharing laughs and confessions. They sat in Darwin’s basement bathtub, legs tangled, staring at his ceiling and hypothesizing how many drunk teenagers it would take to make it collapse. His shoes were off, and Alex made him leave his socks outside the tub. He could feel the callouses on Alex’s toes as the brushed against the tops of his feet. Alex’s voice was softer and less angry at the world, and Hank’s shoulders were looser and his mind emptier.

    “What's something you've never told anyone before?” Hank had asked.

    “Anyone?”

    “Or… never told me. I guess I wouldn't know if you've never told _anyone_. I have no way of proving that.”

    “Okay,” he considered it, voicing dropping even lower, “my biggest fear is letting Scott down,”

    “You could never.”

    “Yeah, I could. But I refuse to.”

    “ _Alex_ ,” he forced eye contact, “ _you never could_ ,”

    There was quiet again.

    “What about you?” Alex whisper sounded hoarse.

    He paused, but he could feel Alex’s heartbeat through his ankle and he couldn’t imagine lying to him, “I've never kissed anyone.”

      “Really?”

      “Nobody’s ever wanted to.”

     Alex snorted, letting them fall into silence again. He spoke again as he let his head fall back against the rim, “you’re an idiot.”

      Hank drew circles on the outside of the tub.

    “People want to, bozo. Every dude in school wants to.”

    “You don't,” Hank reasoned but it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

    Alex was quiet for a touch too long, so Hank sat up to gauge his face. He lifted his head to see Alex much closer to him than before. The tub felt smaller; he opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't find any words. Alex shook his head just a tad, before leaning in and pressing their lips together.

    It was chaste, Hank could guess, but his mind went rarely blank. All he could feel was the warm, wet feel of Alex’s mouth moving slow against him. A touch of his tongue felt around on Hank’s teeth, against the front of his taste buds. It wasn't fireworks; it wasn't flashy, it was subtle and almost comforting, warmed him from toe to tip; more like a campfire. Hank felt… new.

    They parted, mouths hovering an inch away from one another. Hank managed a small whisper of a _what_. Alex sat back, and after a moment, Hank did the same.

    “I _have,”_ Alex's words were barely audible. Hank didn't really know what they meant.

    The western front was all quiet for what felt like hours before they went back to talking about ceilings.

They don't talk about it again.)

\--

     Raven was his alarm again the day after. She cheerily woke him up with more hair tickling him nose, and talked as he got ready for the day, doing her makeup in his mirror. Charles was running interviews for his new research assistants all week and had to start earlier and stay later. (Apparently, Charles tried to offer Hank the position, but he laughed it off.) He was fine with driving her, now that she wasn’t stuck on his virginity. She asked if they were going to get Alex.

     He said no. He didn’t know his jaw could clench.

     As soon as they got to school, an unusually high number of eyes went straight to him. He wasn’t used to be noticed- frankly, he didn’t like it. People were coming _up_ to them. Their casual friend Peter Parker congratulated him and Alex; his own boyfriend Wade telling him that they were more than welcome to a four way (this earned him a punch in the arm from Peter). Elizabeth Braddock eyed him up and down, tutting as he walked by in utter disappointment. Raven’s friend Irene caught him as they walked to their usual morning spot and silently handed him a condom. (Raven lost it at that one.)

    Luckily, Raven didn’t rattle questions about him and Alex. She didn’t show it a lot, but she did have some concept of his boundaries, and she could respect them. Instead, she talked about Charles (whom she’d never admit, is her favorite topic)- he was close to a discovery in his hypothesis. She said she was feeling insanely proud. She talked about he was becoming friends with Ms. Pryde’s roommate, because he was dating Erik’s best friend. She said she wished he had done it sooner so she could get blackmail material. She also admitted- almost quietly- she thought his boyfriend was going to propose soon.

     She didn’t say how she felt about that.

      (Something clicked in his head)

    Darwin showed up with breakfast and an exaggerated smile towards Hank. It was uncomfortable to look at all the way- Darwin had a sunshine smile usually, but now- it seemed almost _fake_ , which didn’t fit well on his face. He slipped onto the bench like a dancer, a hair’s distance away from Hank. He belatedly realized they had never been this close before.

    “ _Good_ morning, Hank-- nay, _best_ morning!” he beamed.

    “Um… good morning?”

    “I heard,” he continued and Hank understands instantly, “and I have to say, there is no man I think is better suited for Alex, and I am _thrilled_ and _titillated,_ ”

     Hank squeaked.

    “However! If you hurt his fragile man heart, I will be forced to break your porcelain skin.” Darwin hadn’t stopped smiling, which made this even more terrifying.

    Raven answered for him, “Well, pass the same along to your boy, but from me and make it more violent,”

    Darwin nodded and dropped the subject, handing out breakfast finally. Hank busied himself with harfing it down, to fill his mouth to excuse him from talking. He loved Darwin, and he loved that he was protective of Alex because Alex needed people looking out for him, but he was not a fan of being on the other side of it.

    Angel and Alex come next, as usual. Alex slide in next to Hank, kissing his cheek and pushing his coffee into his Hank with a whispered _good morning_. Hank smiled shyly as their friends allowed themselves a small _aw_ , before launching back into conversation.

    His cup read _Charles Hufnage_ today.

    “I don’t know who this is,” Hank admitted.

    Alex uncharacteristically blushed, “He was a cardiologist. First person to repair aortic valve,”

    “Aw. Alex,” Hank pecked _him_ this time, mostly to hide the flush on his cheeks. He whispered into his ear, “That’s really gay.”

    Their group _aw_ ’d again.

    (Alex was a better liar than him.)

\--

    It didn’t hit him until he and Alex left for their history class, but for the first time in his high school experience, people he didn’t know were talking about him. And he didn’t really know how to react to it.

     (People didn’t notice Hank- he wasn’t someone who stood out, probably of his own volition. His only notable feature was his height, but he curled in on himself so much, slouching, that he was able to blend in. His peers didn’t send him any second glance; adults do sometimes, if it’s in an academic environment. People his age didn’t give a shit- he was valedictorian and if the amount of times he had heard _who is Hank McCoy?_ at school award assemblies was an indication, his speech was going to _beautifully_.)

      (Alex was noticeable- extremely noticeable. He was _gorgeous-_ strawberry blonde, strong jawed, and muscular- he dressed in tight white shirts and leather jackets. His silence made him seem mysterious. People fall at his feet.)

     As soon as he and Alex sat down at their desks, he noticed the whispers. There were some members of the volleyball team that sat across from them and every time he’d turn to talk to Alex, they giggled. Hank felt dangerously like an animal in a zoo.

      “What’s happening?” Hank whispered.

      “We’re new. We had a dramatic outing. People are interested,” Alex whispered back, letting his mouth linger a little long near his ear. Whispers erupted from the other side of the room.

    “Oh. That’s… voyeuristic and… weird.”

     Alex shrugged, turning back in his desk as Mr. Howlett walked his short frame into the classroom with a sort of authority only he could manage, “Shut up, harpies, we have a party system to attack,”

     Mr. Howlett paused by Hank’s desk for half a second, eyes falling on Alex for a moment before he carried them to a flushed Hank. He dropped a yellow note on his desk before continuing his stride to the white board. Hank opened it (it folded once, on a guidance slip, written loopy).

     _Hank- you already know. See me during your free block -Ms. Pryde_

He swallowed.

\--

     Once his study hall came around, he couldn't shake the mercury-like feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach as he shuffled into Ms. Pryde’s office. Even if she hadn't heard about Alex and him, she basically had her fifth degree in Reading Hank so she’d figure out a way to squeeze it out of him. He tried to stay hopeful though. She didn't leave her office much and he was good at lying. Sometimes, she just called him in to talk.

    He found her with nose childishly scrunched up, swirling her spoon with disinterest in some sort of soup. He didn't bother with formality because Ms. Pryde loved to comment on an entrance in lieu of greeting.

    “Have you ever eaten borscht?” She asked, voice as repelling as two magnets.

    He almost exhaled in relief. This wasn't about him. He shook his head.

    She made a face, “Well. It's awful.” She tossed her spoon down with finality, wiping her hands together as she leaned forward, “Anyway. What's this I hear about you banging Alex Summers?”

     Dammit. It was about him.

    ( _Dammit!_ )

    “Um. How did you hear that?”

    “Mr. Rogers has the _biggest_ mouth.”

He laughed nervously.

      “Now, Hank, usually I would not waste my mind space towards teenage hookups, because as we talked about before, I am an adult and that'd be _creepy._ However, this seems _spookily_ well timed along with our previous talk, so I ask you again- _Alex Summers?_ ”

     Hank tried to gather his thoughts but they were going far too fast for him, and he felt his face crumple. He can't bring this lie to Ms. Pryde, “I have no idea what happened,”

     She caught the message he was sending with his eyes, nodding her head, “I figured as much.”

      “Brian Falsworth was hitting on me and Alex was there so we lied and then, Raven was going to be so _annoyed_ , so we decided to keep it up so she’d drop the virginity thing, but now, everyone knows and I’m just now realizing how much this is _torturing_ me- oh, my god! How could I _do_ this to myself- Ms. Pryde what am I _even doing_?-”

    She cut him off with a single raised hand, “Hank. _Breathe_.”

     His jaw snapped close.

    “Are you breathing?”

      He shook his head.

      “Can you?”

     He opened his mouth and made an exaggerated inhale.

      “Great. Awesome. Doing good.”

     She pulled her rolling chair towards Hank, leveling him with her honest, brown eyes, “I'm going to be honest with you. I don't have any experience with this, outside of a single, slightly inebriated viewing of _Easy A_.”

    He couldn't help the exasperated look he gave her.              

    “Don't kvetch, wait a sec, let me finish. This could be good for you.”

     The exasperation grew.

    “ _Wait_.” she emphasized, “I don’t agree with you lying. Honesty is the best policy always all the time. Lying through your teeth is detrimental to your enamel. And I think that this will go terribly, terribly wrong. _But_. Hank. This could also very well be the gateway into _letting_ you tell the truth.”

    “How?”

    “You like Alex. A lot.”

    “Well…. I _like_ him-”

     She ignored him, “Then maybe opening the dry run of the two of you dating could give you the confidence needed to broach the conversation with him. I think that if you tried to talk realistically with him, it would bring up some facts that would surprise you. And maybe, this whole thing can give you the comfort to talk to Raven about why she’s so invested in this.”

    “I have thoughts on this concept.”

    “Expand.” Ms. Pryde sat back.

    “Okay, _one_. There is no conversation to be had with Alex. He doesn’t feel the same and it’s not his responsibility to, just because I like him. I’m not going to force him into a situation that makes him feel guilty-”

“Oh, Hank, you beautiful, blind boy,” Ms. Pryde whispered.

     He ignored _her_ , “ _Second_. I think I figured Raven out.”

      “You would be the first,” she said, but she doesn’t push it out of him. Ms. Pryde was good at that. She knew that was between Hank and Raven.

    “But. Regardless. Nothing with come out of me and Alex. I’ve accepted that. I’m fine with it. I will get over it.”

     Ms. Pryde exhaled heavily, gripping her head, “Hank, I don’t want to be brutal, but if you think you can handle being around Alex for so long in such an intimate setting with no emotional repercussion... that is so naive, I can’t wrap my head around the fact a brilliant person like you would believe that. You are way more invested in your feelings in then you’re admitting to yourself. I _really_ don’t want you to get hurt.”

    He leaned forward, forcing intense eye contact, “Ms. Pryde. I. Am. _Fine_.”

    (Hank was good at lying to himself.)

    “You’re not. But I can’t force you to admit that.”

    “No, you can’t.” he crossed his arms, reconsidering the conversation, “But you don’t think this is a bad idea?”

    “Oh, no, I one-hundred percent thing this is the _worst_ idea I’ve heard, and I want you to end it.”

     (He knew she was right)

     He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally at her. Ms. Pryde tsks under her breath, picking her spoon up again. It was still for a moment before she made a disgusted noise.     “Again, I cannot reiterate enough how _awful_ this tastes,”

\--

     The next few weeks go by smoothly enough. The general consensus of their school is that Hank and Alex are the new (quote unquote) power couple. They don’t do much. They hold hands in public, sometimes when Hank is feeling bold, or like if he particularly hates himself that day, he’ll peck Alex on the cheek. Their friend group gets over their honeymoon infatuation of their relationship quickly enough, soon finding it disgusting rather than cute. Hank’s fine with it, because that means they can step down their PDA.

     They don’t talk about it when they’re alone. But they’ve been alone a lot more.

     To keep up appearances (quote unquote), Alex takes him on “dates”. They go to movies together, they study together. They get food, they hang out at each other’s homes. Hank’s parent haven’t noticed anything different, but they would have to be home to notice anything. Scott had been overly supportive in his traditional Scott fashion, inviting Hank to family nights with his fiancée. They’ve become a package deal. You didn’t hang out with Hank or Alex. You hung out with Hank-and-Alex.

      (It didn’t kill Hank every time he heard that. Hank was good at lying to himself.)

     Hanging out with Alex had always been a treat for Hank, and not just because Hank enjoyed self torture. Alex was quiet if he didn’t have something to say, but when he did speak, he was funny and smart, and he had a cutting wit that always took Hank by surprise.       And he was sweet-surprisingly sweet. He remembered specifics, and he did soft surprises. It left a pitter in his heart.

     (One night, Hank came home from tutoring juniors for SAT’s to find Alex had cleaned his entire house. Another night, Alex surprised him with tickets to a living room tour of his favorite band, because real concerts were too crowded for Hank to escape without a panic attack. He cleaned his car, carried his books. He was a good boyfriend. Fake boyfriend.)         

     But overall, it had just been soft. It had been _pleasant._ And every second made Hank feel more and more dizzy. And more and more confused about how Alex felt.

    One night, they were sitting one diner in town that had never given anyone food poisoning: Gambit’s. It was run by a nice Cajun man named Remy, whose accent was thick and hospitable- he was engaged to a nice orthodontist lady everyone called Rouge, who was one of Ms. Pryde’s oldest friends. That was the only awkward part of the diner- there were a sizeable number of framed pictures of their guidance counsel hung around. However, Remy had a soft spot for Alex and he’d give them a discount so it was hard to resist. Hank was going over psych homework as Alex watched him.

      “You know what surprised me?” Alex said out of the blue.

     Hank hummed, not looking up from his work.

      “How little we’ve changed,”

     Hank kept his head down, but he began doodling circles in his margins, “What do you

mean?” 

    “We’ve been ‘dating’,” Alex continued with a subtle emphasis, “but I’ve just felt the same with you.”

    “I’m sorry to disappoint.” he deadpanned.

    Alex snorted, “No. Don’t. It’s good. It’s _perfect_ ,”

    That made his heart jump. Hank chanced a glance up, “Yeah?”

    Alex was staring straight into his eyes, look on his face unreadable, “Yeah.”

\--

      “I think you were right.” he said as he walked into Ms. Pryde’s office. She was working on an equation a mile long on her whiteboard wall, looking up at his voice.

      “Can you be more specific? I’m right about a lot of things,” she leveled, “I have a fancy medal to back me up.”

    “I think I’m more serious about Alex than I’m willing to admit,”

    “Oh, yeah. I am right about that,”

      “You’re also right that I really don’t know where he stands on this. And I need to have a conversation about this with him, because it is killing me not knowing.”

      “Yes, I am also right about that,”

      “Ms. Pryde?”

      “Yes?”

     “How do I have that conversation?”

     She put her Expo marker down, wiping her hands on her jeans, “Well. How do _you_ think you have that conversation?”

    “Oh, god. Don’t make me do that stream of consciousness bullshit,”

She raised her eyebrow, silent. (She’s going to make him do that stream of consciousness bullshit.)

    He sighed, folding into her office chair as she perched on the edge of her desk.

    “I think I have to be honest with him. I just need… to tell him what I’m feeling. Just… spit it out.”

    “And what are you feeling?”

    “I don’t know- it might be love? But I don’t think I can call it love without knowing for certain whether or not I’m fooling myself. All I know is I look at him and I feel _whole_. I feel _safe_. I want… I want something _real_. I want to give him everything he needs, and for him to know he’s loved. I just… need to be… honest with him.”

    (Hank was really bad at being honest with himself.)

    “Yeah, buddy. I think you do.” she stopped, waiting for something he didn’t know what to say. Upon his silence, she continued, “I also think you need to talk to Raven.”

    “Yeah. I think I do.”

    “A few weeks ago you said you figured her out. I think you need to tell her that.”  

    “Yeah.” He sighed.

    Ms. Pryde nodded along with him. Neither of them needed any more words on the matter.

Simplicity made things easy for Hank to work out.

    “God. This _sucks_ ,”

    Ms. Pryde laughed and wrote him a note out of gym.

\--

     That weekend, Hank’s parents were going to be home, which hadn’t happened all year. He told them he was staying at Raven’s house, which they smiled encouraging at and cited they thought Raven was such a nice girl, and they still don’t understand why he can’t date her. He bit his tongue and stared at the wall, head swimming with responses he’d never actually say.

    He showed up to Raven’s beautiful house without calling and a backpack full of clothes. Raven and Charles lived closer to Boston- Raven really shouldn’t even go to their school, but Charles was able to convince the school board to ignore that- in a historical mansion that had apparently been in the family for generations. It was decorated elegantly, portraits covered the walls of stern faced, beautiful folks who all looked like Charles in a vague sort of sense, but all without the spark in his eyes. The living room was the most real; an homage to Raven through the years, with a few pictures of Charles thrown in by Raven’s insistence.

     At his weary knock, Charles opened the door, glass of wine in his hand and his pink lips stretched into a stunning smile. He looked nice- he always was dressed professionally, but he looked extra special tonight and Hank felt his stomach clench. Nowhere on his face showed Hank as an intrusion though, probably just because Charles _loved_ him.

    “Hank!” he greeted, “Did I know you were coming over?”

    “No?”

    “Oh!” he beamed and moved aside to let Hank in, “Just as well. Raven’s not home yet- I _believe_ she’s with your friend Sean? I forget, honestly. But she should be home eventually! Erik and I are just sitting around- you are free to join us!”

    He looked over Charles’s shoulder to make eye contact with his scarily handsome boyfriend, Erik. Erik sat surrounded by candles, with soft romantic music playing in the background, and his hand forced into his pocket very unnaturally. There was a square shaped outline in the same pocket and he could see Erik play with it a little. He was also sending him a look that was in no subtle terms read _if you do not leave this house, I am going to murder you._ Hank met Charles’s insane blue eyes again. His eyes skated back to Erik and _oh. Oh!_

     (He walked in on the foreplay to a proposal.)

    ( _Dammit!_ )

    “Actually, I’m just going to find her at Sean’s.” he moved slowly back towards the door, “Enjoy your night,”

    Charles extended another invitation to stay, too sweet to see what was happening, as Erik sent an insincere regretful goodbye.

     Hank shut the door to his car behind him and drove distractingly to the park nearby, dialing Raven. The park was closed off by some chains- it was after dark, but he could see some forms in the darkness moving around. People had probably jumped the fence, so he turned off his headlights.

     She picked up, voice thick, “Hankford,” she greeted.

     He was quiet, “Are you high?”

      “What? Yes, of _course_ I am.” she giggled back.

     Breathe in. Out. Again.

      “Okay. Well. Don’t drive.”

     She laughed harder this time, “Okay-dokey my buddy! What you calling for?”

      “Doesn’t matter now.”

      “You’re a weird kid, Hank!”

     He went to hang up, but stopped himself, “Don’t go home until you’re sober.”

      “Why, baby doll?”

      “I just have a feeling Charles has something he’ll want to tell you, and you’ll want to be in the right mind for it.”

     She rambled for a little more about how he must be some sort of fortune teller before she hung up to go eat something with Sean and he sat alone in his Honda in the middle of an empty park, parking lot. Breathing in and out.

     His plan changed. He didn’t know where to go.

     He turned his headlights on and let himself drive.

\--

    He has no memory of the drive, but suddenly, he looked up and he was at Alex’s house and something hit him like a stack of bricks.

    He needed somewhere to go and he drove to Alex’s.

    Without even thinking about it. He just went to Alex without any second thought on the matter.

    ( _Dammit_!)

    He stared at the illuminated window of Alex’s bedroom. He had been sitting there for fifteen minutes, like a damn Taylor Swift video, trying to convince his arms to move and drive away, but nothing moved. After a moment, he could see Alex open his window, and Hank found his legs moving him out himself.

“What’s wrong?” he called from his second story.

    Hank didn’t respond. Alec frowned.

    “The door’s unlocked,” Alex went back inside and Hank realized how deep into it he was.

    (Hank was going to have to be honest with himself).

    (Hank was going to have to be honest with a lot of people.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end is nye

     “Scott’s not here,” was the first thing Alex said after opening the door.

     “Oh. Okay,” Hank didn’t know how to respond to that.

     “Jean’s parents won a spa retreat at a community lotto, but they hate being touched, so they gave it to her and Scott.”

     “That’s… nice? I’m sorry, do you want me to leave?”

     “What? No! I just figured. You like Scott, so,” he moved aside, letting Hank in and shutting the door.

     “Yeah, he’s the Summers I’m friends with, he’s definitely who I’m here for,”  

     Alex rolled his eyes, but he smiled, “What are you here for?”

     Hank didn’t know how to respond to that either, but he forced his mouth to talk.

     (Ms. Pryde would be proud.)

     “My parents are home, and… I just. Needed a place to go?”

     “So, you came here,” Alex finished. His voice had a strange tenor, but it was warm.

     “So. I came here.”

     Alex had led them to the couch in the den, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

     “No. But I should.”

     “We’re not very good at talking, are we?”

     “So I’ve been told,” Hank hadn’t purposefully sat so close to Alex, but they were touching thighs and shoulders, but the warmth grounded him, “I wanted Raven tonight, and she blew me off. Or maybe she didn’t, I don’t know. She got high?”

     “Shockingly.”

     “I mean, I can’t be upset with her. She didn’t know, but it’s just seemed like, I dunno, recently? She hasn’t been here when I’ve needed her. She’s been around to make my life how she wants it and then she leaves and she doesn’t _talk to me_ when something’s wrong. She just talks but she never says anything!”

     “It’s frustrating you because you see her wanting to help her, but she’s not letting you respond,”

     “Yes! Exactly!”

     “Do you ever think that maybe she doesn’t let you respond because she doesn’t want you to worry about her?”

     Hank was quiet. He had considered that, but. He didn’t want to think it was true.

     “It doesn’t make any sense,” he said instead, but his voice didn’t even convince him, “She loves to be the center of attention,”

     “About shit that doesn’t matter, sure. When it helps her maintain the image she created, she’ll scream until there’s no one who doesn’t know. But if it exposes her soft underbelly?”

     “Oh.”

     “Yeah.”

     Hank sighed and leaned all the way back, “I need to talk to her,”

     Alex didn’t answer so Hank knew he agreed.

     His head was resting on the top of the couch cousin and so was Alex’s- they were staring at the ceiling.

     He thought about the last time he and Alex were staring at the same ceiling.

     (He should try to be honest.)

     “Has it been hard?”

     “Has what been hard?”

      “Pretending to date me,” Hank asked.

     “Oh. No. We’ve talked about that, I thought.”

     “You said not a lot had changed. You didn’t say if it was hard or not,”

      “Oh. Well. It hasn’t,” Alex was quiet for a second, “Has it been hard for you?”

      (Honesty.)

      “Yes.”

      “Why?” Alex sounded hesitant.

      “It’s too close to the real thing. It feels like being half a second off from winning a race,”

      “Oh.” Alex said.

      “Yeah.” Hank said.

      They went back to staring at the ceiling.

\--

     For the third time that year, he woke up to Raven’s blue hair hanging in his face. This time he was in Alex’s room (Alex had let him take the bed, insisted actually, after an hour of shared silence.) and she looked like she had been awake since yesterday.

    “Tell me about your relationship.” Raven asked as soon as his eyes opened.

     He grabbed his glasses, “Did you go home last night?”

      “Yes. Tell me about your relationship.”

      “What do you mean, ‘tell you about my relationship’?” Hank sighed.

      “Do you go on dates?”

      “Yeah, we do-”

      “Does he treat you well?”

      “Yes- what is going-”

      “Do you guys have sex frequently?”

      “Jesus, Raven-”

      “Because sex is healthy, Hank, and if you’re not in a healthy relationship, then you shouldn’t be settling, because you deserve more-”

      “Raven-”

      “I know he took your virginity, so you don’t have a goddamn clue what good sex is, but has he ever crossed the line-”

      “Raven!”

      “Is this your way of telling me you’re not happy because I swear to god I will _break his knee caps_ -”

      “Raven! Shut up!”

    Her voice went dead automatically. (he’s never yelled at her before. Hank’s never even yelled, period. It hurt his throat.)

      “What is wrong with you!? You think you can burst in here and ask all these intensely personal questions and expect me to answer them just because you want me to? You act like you’re entitled to them! I don’t _need_ to disclose any of this information to you- this is all my personal business! When I tell you stuff, it’s because I trust you! Right now, you’re making me regret that trust!”

     She looked at him with panicked eyes. (their fights don’t go like this.)

       “But can I guess what happened yesterday? Can I guess what the catalyst was for you to barge in and feel privy to this?! What’s happened _every time_ you’ve asked about my sex life?”

      She was silent.

       His voice came out a little softer. He breathed in. Out. “Erik proposed. Didn’t he?”

       Finally, her face broke its mold of frustrated surprise. Her mouth got hard and her eyes got angry, “Yes. Yes, he did.”

      “And you’re upset, because you had no control over it. Erik is the only piece of Charles’s life you feel you can’t be a part of,”

      Her brows furrowed deeper, her mouth tightening. She was angrier- no. She was more _defensive_ , “No. Fuck you, no, you are not allowed to just _tell me_ why I do what I do, asshole, you have no reason to think you can. You are not a therapist. You are not some sort of _life coach_. You are a fucking _bitch_ who is worried about _everything_ , you don’t know shit!”

       “Yeah, I am all of those things, Raven. I’m anxious all the time. I’m a bitch. And I’m a little bit of an asshole,” he stood up off Alex’s bed, “but I’m the guy that picked you up the first time you got drunk, and the guy who you call after a break up, and the guy who knows you better than anyone.”

       “Oh, fuck you-”

    “And I know how you can be. And I know that the most important thing in the entire world to you is Charles, and you don’t want to him to make any mistakes, and when your say in something is lost on him, you don’t know what to do with yourself. So you impart that wisdom onto me so it _feels_ like you have some sort effect on _something_.”

    She looked at him and he looked at her and it was just the two of them just looking at one another. Despite the piercings and the blue hair and the eyeliner and the tattoo peaking up from her shirt collar, Raven looked so small; so young. Her layers were being pulled away one by one. Her face was changing every second, and her eyes are canvassing his face and gauging his reactions.

      After what felt like an hour- surely closer to five minutes- she exhaled and sat down in Alex’s office chair. Her voice was grated and regretful. “You may have a point.”

      He moved towards her.

       “It’s not that I’m not… happy for him. He deserves this, really, he deserves someone--and it’s not that I don’t like Erik.” she sounded more outwardly defensive, “But we weren’t raised… _right_. Sharon didn’t exactly teach us about healthy relationships, Hank. And I figured it out by proxy—from Scott and Jean, from Darwin’s mom, from trial and error- but Charles? He didn’t even try. He slept around, he didn’t let people stay for long enough to figure out how it was supposed to go. Then Erik came along and he was the first person Charles let get close, and Charles had nobody to compare him to. And I freaked, because what if Erik was treating him so wrong, but he didn’t know, because that’s how Sharon thought love was supposed to go?”

      She looked up. Her eyes were welling, “And then I looked at you and- you were the exact same way. You didn’t _try_. You didn’t put yourself out there. You sat inside and twiddled your thumbs, ready to let life pass you by. I wanted you to try and maybe fail, but at least _try_ to figure out what a healthy relationship is. You looked at your parents and they screwed you up so you don’t want to be like them. Ms. Pryde? Yeah, she’s smart, but she would never push you to fix something you didn’t want to fix yet- and she has been living in spinsterhood since she’d broken off an _engagement_. You’re only other frame of reference was Charles who is help to _no one_.  I was intense because… because I worry about you. Because I want you to be happy.”

      Hank sighed and sat on the front of Alex’s bed post, “Raven.”

      She waved him off, but he ignored her and continued, “I love you. And I love that you care.

But.”

      She looked up again.

       “You can’t be responsible for everything. You gotta let the rest of us figure it out for ourselves. We might not do it the way you want us to. But we have to do it the way we think is best.”

      She sighed deeply, but she nodded. She looked up, her eyes apologetic and her face downturned.

      He opened his arms. She placed herself perfectly against him.

      (He was getting better at being honest.)

\--

     Raven chattered aimlessly as he walked her out, hand guiding her back. She was happier though, and she took breaks to let him respond. They almost had a conversation.

     Alex met him at the door as he watched her get into her car and drive away through the

window.

      “What was that about?” Alex asked.

      “We talked. Actually talked.”

    “Yeah?”

    “Yeah. We talked about why she was so invested in my penis hyman.”

    “Really?”

    “Yeah. And I think we reached a happy conclusion. The conversation is closed. Finally. For real.”

    “Oh.” his voice was audibly disappointed. Hank turned to him to see his mouth in a deep frown.

    “What’s wrong?”

    He shook his head, but Hank could see the wall that just went up. When he spoke, his voices sounded as hard as it had years before, “Nothing. Do you want to go get food?”

\--

      The drive to Gambit’s was silent in an uncomfortable sort of way. Alex’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel and Hank felt his shoulders get tenser and tenser. He felt his thumb tip trace circles in his index finger pad. He put his hand flush against the seat.

      Gambit’s diner was empty when they got there. It was a weird time between breakfast and lunch, and Remy was clearing tables, waving at them when they entered. They didn’t order here anymore, Remy would just give them something different anyway. He disappeared into the kitchen and left them in their own silence.

       (No balls, Hank.)

       “Alex.” he forced himself to look him in the eye, “Why didn’t we talk about that night at Darwin’s party?”

      He saw his back straightened, “What do you mean?”

       “Alex, you know what I mean.” Alex didn’t answer so Hank braced himself as he went on, “We _kissed_. It was my first kiss, and I thought it meant something. But you didn’t say _anything_.”

      Alex was still quiet, but he felt his confidence grow as he continued, “And I _wanted_ you to say something. Because it meant something to me because I actually _cared about you_. Alex, I still care about you,”

      Alex’s head snapped up again.

       “And I can’t tell if you care about me too. This whole charade- you stepped into it so readily, and you made me feel so special and so loved and like this whole thing was _real_ , and I thought _maybe_ you felt the same but you don’t say anything. You don’t tell me what your feeling and I have to ask myself if you actually want this to be real! So here I am! Asking you! Is this real? Do you want this to be real?”

      He felt his heart pounding again, and he say Alex’s eyes shift through responses, mouth a little open and brow slightly furrowed.

      He counted to ten. He counted down from ten.

      He counted to ten again.

      Alex still looked a lost for words, and Hank couldn’t help but feel that gave him his answer. He sighed and gathered his coat up. He spared one last glance at Alex before sliding out of the booth and moving to leave.

       “Wait-”

      He turned back to Alex, exhausted. He was standing up now, squaring his shoulders.

       “Hank. I-” his voice shuttered, but he could see him power through it, “I want it to be real. God that sounds corny and awful, and such a fucking Meg Ryan line, but holy _fuck_ I want it to be real. I want to hold your stupid hand and kiss your stupid face and I want to tell people you’re my _fucking_ _boyfriend_. I have wanted it since sophomore year and I wanted it when I kissed you and I want it _now_.”

      Hank threw his arms up, letting them fall, his throat burning and voice tearful, “Then why didn’t you say anything then?”

      Alex laughed as he strode over to him, grabbing Hank’s face in his hands and pulling him down to kiss him deeply.

\--

    The Monday, he found himself at Ms. Pryde’s office doorway again, this time of his own volition. Knocking felt unnatural- Hank couldn’t recall a time he had ever knocked- hell, he rarely was the one to go to her, since she had that weird six sense of knowing when he needed her. He took a second before rapping his fingers against the frame- just watching her. She was focused on the equation she had started the week before (it had tripled in size) and he realized how young she looked still- biting on her lips in deep thought, hair thrown back in a small ponytail, smaller pieces sticking out, sleeves rolled up.

     (Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that’s why she was so good at her job. She wasn’t thirty years older than them- she was young herself, still had that blunt clarity youth provided- and she still saw them as people, nearly her peers. Not kids.)

      He finally knocked and she looked up, beaming as soon as she saw him, “Hey, buster.”

     He smiled back and it felt easier than it had in months, “You forgot to carry the two.”

     Her eyes flickered back to her marker, brow furrowed at first, but she huffed, good naturally instead, “That was mean. Don’t joke with a lady about her math,” but she offered him an Expo all the same

     With the same honest smile, he accepted it, eyes dragging across her neat writing. They both knew it was above his pay grade, but she always let him try and learn. The way she wrote numbers was like how others wrote music, and it filled his head with a pleasant rhythm.

     “How was your weekend?” she asked, redoing her ponytail. It looked the same, “Did you talk to your friends?”

      “Well. I talked to one of my friends. Then, I talked to my boyfriend.”

     Ms. Pryde’s face broke into a wide smile and a melodic laugh, “You TNT _the Closer_ ’d it?”

     “Don’t make me acknowledge that sentence in any sort of agreeable connotation,”

     “You totally TNT _the Closer_ ’d it, I’m so proud. Were the conversations mature and avoid emotionally charged blaming?”

     “Oh, yeah.”

     “I’m _so. Proud_.”

     “Through all of this… I think I realized something,”

     “About?”

     “About me. I was so afraid to tell people talk to people because I didn’t want them worry about me that… I let them make my decisions for me. And I was unhappy with how my life was, so. I resented them? I was making as many problems as they were,”

     Ms. Pryde was quiet, so he chanced a glance at her. She was staring at him, her eyes open and loving, her mouth open, not in a smile, but showing utter joy. He had never had someone look so... _proud_ at him before.

     He felt his stomach turn up.

     “Now, I’m ready to… talk to the people I love. Listen but don’t fold over. Be… myself? Is that corny?”

     “Yeah, but all emotion is,”

     He laughed, but the air felt so sweet and motherly it shifted to its own noise. Not a laugh, but a bouncy agreement

    “Hank,” she had put her hand on his shoulder, warm and soft and the right amount of pressure in a way his mother never did, “I don’t think you hear it enough. But. You’re a good person.”

      He thought back about the smiles Alex would flash him, and Raven’s hugs. He thought about the talks in the diner and the words in the bedroom, and the patience in his voice when Sean sings instead of talking. He thought about him leaving Charles and Erik and he thought about making Ms. Pryde laugh her first day.

      He thought about being Raven’s best friend and despite how much it sucked sometimes, he wouldn’t want to be anything else if he could.

      He thought about what he must have done to get to end up right there, at that moment, with the people he loved loving him and he was glad he had done whatever it was. He thought he deserved it.

      After all, Hank _was_ a good person.

     (Or at least, he liked to think so.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay that's it! I just banged that out, so it's not perfect but I thought it was cool. If you enjoyed it, leave a kudos or comment! I would appreciate that tons!! Thank you if you read the whole thing!
> 
> (also if found any typos pull those receipts out on me because I NEED THEM LMAO)  
> follow me on tumble at ranchsalad!


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